Chapter 1 #2
Phoebe shrugged. “It made little difference to me.
When my father was made baron, I suddenly became an honourable.
I lost all my friends and found myself alone in a school full of girls born to the aristocracy.
When it came time for my Season, it was not filled with friends or lords wanting to make my acquaintance.
It was full of dowry hunters who viewed me as property to tolerate.
“When the countess introduced me to Richard, I was thrilled with the match. Richard was the only man of the ton who treated me like a queen, and when he offered for my hand, my father accepted. He said a match like Richard was beneficial to us all. I was too ignorant to know what questions a bride should ask, let alone question my betrothed’s knowledge of business. Apparently, my father was as well.”
“Since I never had a Season, I wouldn’t know what one entailed. Yet still, I find myself a duchess. Do you want to give up the hopes of holding rank within the peerage?”
Phoebe sighed. “Since I find the ton tedious and bothersome, it hardly matters whom I marry.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Why do you host scandalous house parties year after year for members of the ton?”
Why had she started hosting house parties with all the members of the ton who skirted the edge of polite society when she herself had never engaged in a tryst at any of them? “I was bored.”
Iseabail laughed. “Bored?”
She sighed, long and deep. “When Richard died, I discovered he had left me everything …and nothing at all.”
“You must be joking.” Iseabail knew exactly what she was speaking of.
Her own father had done worse. He’d died and left his six young daughters destitute and knee-deep in scandal.
The very reason why Iseabail had married the dying Duke of Nithesdale and was carrying her husband’s heir. “What did you do?”
Phoebe’s laugh was humorless and short as she sat down on the bed next to Iseabail.
“Like most young women who find themselves in a scrape, I turned to my husband’s family.
His older brother, the earl, did not reply to my correspondence and Richard’s younger brother would have helped, but he was as penniless as me.
So, I turned to a man I knew could help. ”
Iseabail’s brows drew together as if she knew exactly what happened. “Who?”
“Henry Jarvis. He was expressing interest in buying my family’s business before Richard died.”
Iseabail scowled. “That horrible man.”
She nodded. “Initially, he was a welcome ally. I soon found out how wrong I was, and how despicable he could be.”
Iseabail placed her hand on Phoebe’s and squeezed. She smiled back at her, their bond of hatred for the despicable Henry Jarvis only strengthened their friendship.
“At the time I was devastated. I was twenty years old with no idea what to do. My parents were dead, my husband was dead, I had no money, and a man was expressing an interest I didn’t want. I was desperate.
“It was Nithesdale who had the presence of mind to check on me.” She shook her head, still in disbelief of Nithesdale’s actions.
“What man of the ton worries about his friend’s widow?
I was so grateful I nearly fell at his feet when he arrived at the house.
I’d already let all the servants go, and I had no one.
I was so desperate for any assistance I would have done anything he asked if he would just tell me what to do. ”
Iseabail stiffened and Phoebe immediately understood how her words may be misinterpreted.
“No dear. Unlike Mr. Jarvis, your husband was never that sort of man. He brought in Forrester, who was a couple years older than me and such a dashing figure. He was intelligent and held himself with a worldly air most men of twenty-three only dream of possessing. He was exactly the person I needed to make my family business profitable once more. After the first year, when he showed me the business accounts and the profits in my personal accounts that had grown month after month, I nearly fainted.”
“I can imagine the relief you felt.” Iseabail rubbed her stomach once more, changing the direction of the tiny little circles she appeared to draw with the palm of her hand.
“I hosted my first house party to let Jarvis know I had become a success without becoming his mistress. I stupidly wanted him to believe that I gave myself freely to other men, while I’d refused his offer of money.”
“I would have done the same.” Iseabail smiled. “But weren’t you interested in Forrester?”
She shook her head. “He was everything that is professional. He never so much as hinted that he was interested in anything beyond assisting me as my man of affairs.”
“I didn’t ask if he expressed interest. I asked if you held a tendre for him?”
She blushed. “What young woman wouldn’t look at Forrester and fantasize about those strong thighs?”
It was Iseabail’s turn to blush as she laughed and bumped her shoulder against Phoebe’s. “You truly were a wanton widow.”
“A wanton widow perhaps in my mind, and to the gossip among the ton, but I’m only daring in my dreams.”
Iseabail paused, her eyes going wide. “You mean you never—”
She shook her head. “Only with my husband.”
“I can’t believe it. I would have never guessed your husband was your only paramour.” Iseabail’s eyes went to the letter in her sleeve. “Does Forrester know?”
“I would hardly discuss such a topic with him, but I would imagine even he believes that I have lived a less than virtuous life since Richard passed.”
“So, what does his letter say?”